Another Life
by IzFlarez
Summary: This is not Maximum, this is Skyler. But she is just like Max, wings and all, in some ways, however, she is very lonely. She's one of her own kind in a world like today, or is she? PS : This is my first ever fanfic, it's not perfect but it's worth a try! :) Please review and give any suggestions! Thanks (ᵔᴥᵔ)
1. My Life Within A Page (1)

" _A bird is safe in its nest - but that is not what its wings are made for."_

These wings are meant to fly; through the clouds, over hills and mountains and far, far away from any distractions and annoyance. Just to be free. But I'm no bird; I'm a freaking angel. Or, if you'd prefer, a _human_ with wings.

You see, 16 years ago a baby was born. That baby was me.

I tell myself that no one could handle my beauty (as in the stumps on my back), which was why I was, technically, thrown away. I lived in a dumpster for several months, until an absurd man carried me over to his flat and treated me like an animal; pulled my hair, beat me, wouldn't feed me for days and I'd cry and cry until no tears would fall down my bruised cheeks.

Eventually, the imbecile got bored of me and left me to rot in his flat. I had snuck out of the place via the window and wandered around town, day after day eating scraps and collecting pennies that had been dropped accidentally. As my wings and I grew, I travelled places. Learned new things. I learnt a lot of things.

I learnt how to socialize. I met new people, made new friends. I learnt how to ride a horse (after many black eyes) and as I reached the amazing age of 7, I learnt to fly. It took me long while to learn – it's not as easy as you think. You can't just spread your wings and fly, you have to learn how to use the abnormal muscles: how to open and close your wings, how to raise and lower, how to tense and how to… un-tense, I guess. Then, you have to learn how to take off; you need very powerful legs and extremely high patience, not only to take off but to land. I've learnt ways around sprains and broken bones over the many years of my life.

And after 16 years, this is me. Hi. Nice to see you. How are you? What's your name? I'm associated with the sky both ways – name and body – as I named myself Skyler. I prefer Sky, nevertheless.


	2. Emerson (2)

Living on your own turns you into an anti-social freak. Like, the other day this guy knocked on my door and I almost died of a heart attack, furthermore, he got too spooked and ran away to his mommy and daddy.

Speaking of parents; I've turned myself into one by adopting an adorable little boy whom I call Emerson. He's such a sweetie. But like I said, I'm not a social butterfly so when he comes by every morning I don't always give him my best welcome. Emerson belongs to one of my neighbours, the Patricks' household. They disgust me, reminding me of how I was treated as I grew up (ages 0.1 – 4 years). Sometimes I let him in and give him a bath and some milk which he needs if he wants to grow to become a strong, powerful man.

But on this very day, I've noticed something peculiar about Emerson. On his back he has two purple lumps in the exact spots my wings grew from. It doesn't mean, necessarily, that he's growing wings or anything, for sure! That's just me being paranoid. Regardless, I decided to get him checked out without permission by his parents.

So, I casually took him over to the hospital and booked an appointment for 20 minutes after 10. In the meantime, we went to a toy shop and Em found a book of magician's tricks so I bought it for him. (You're probably wondering where I got all my money from. I'll say soon, just be patient.) It was quite expensive, but when we sat back down in the hospital to wait for his turn, Em was busy looking through the different magic tricks, despite the lack of ability to read that he had.

Eventually, we were called in.

'Ms. S, can you please describe your son's injury.' The doctor asked.

'He is not my son, I am just looking after him.' I scoffed.

'Right, sorry ma'am.' He raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

'He has strange bruises on his back, and I have no idea what they are and how they got there.' I summarized, indicating Emerson to take off his top. I showed the doctor his delicate back and he kept jotting down notes and saying 'Yes…' under his breath in a really creepy way.

After he finished writing his notes, I waited for his interpretation of what was happening with Emerson. The doctor took off his reading glasses (which were a disgusting green colour) and I crossed my arm, impatiently waiting.

'I have never seen anything like this.'

This was enough to make my frustration break through, and so I stood up and grabbed Emerson by his wrist. After I slammed the creepy white door shut, almost off its hinges, I was storming off through the hallways, ignoring the doc's constant yelling of my name and telling me to wait. Of course, I didn't wait. I was given strange looks from passer-by's but my about-to-blow-off-in-anger facial expression told them so.

I felt bad for Em because not only will he be complaining about the bruises on his back, but the bruise I gave him on his wrist. You're welcome. I called for a taxi and when we arrived home, I took Emerson to my bedroom and made him lie on his front. I was going to do something about those bruises myself.

If you have a bruise you'd like to get rid of, follow these instructions.

Firstly, I took out an ice pack from the freezer and rested it on Em's back. I brought in a tablet and put on Netflix for Emerson to watch whilst I was healing his back. Trust me, I'm no witch; I thought I mentioned I was an angel. An inexperienced angel, that is.

After around ten minutes I took off the ice pack and I'm surprised Emerson didn't feel the cold because it felt like Antartica just on his back!

Next, I attempted at massaging his back. I told him I was going for a run, and I ran to the shops to find some special massaging oil, then ran back and rubbed it over his back and massaged it. I told him to say 'Ow!' whenever I hurt him; and that happened a lot. I guess I can scrap that future I planned out as being a professional massager (insert sad face here).

My wrists and hands ache and hurt and I feel tired and they're numb and I just want to sleep, so I told Emerson that he should get going now. Once he was gone, I heard a car pulling up outside.


End file.
